Moving On
by Lady Perditus
Summary: In the end, all things, including ourselves, must move on. Oneshot, OC-centric.


**Summary: In the end, all things, including ourselves, must move on.**

**Author's note: Just a take on CoX shutting down…it felt only right to write a goodbye from one of my characters. *cries* I don't want it to go! Q-Q**

**Will probably do 2-3 more like this (different scenarios and characters, of course!)**

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The streaked sky of the setting sun was the color many of the villains residing in view had gotten used to; blood red. A lone figure with her hands on her hips stood against the view of the sun, defining her silhouette in sharp edges: from her elbows to her armored shoulders.

The end of the figure's trench coat was still for the most part, only slightly swishing to the left or the right when the gentle breeze that occasionally blew decided to carry the end of the coat with it.

All in all it was a beautiful sunset, but that was hardly what was on the mind of the villainess.

She had always known there were worlds out there besides the one she wreaked havoc in. Magic was always deceiving the weak-minded, but quite easily opened its secrets to the wise and curious. The villainess averted her eyes to the small cutlass-like blades that rested in their sheaths on her hips, duly taking note that the vibrant purple aura was radiating more brightly than usual.

With caution she rarely exercised outside of her missions, she drew her left blade, inspecting it in the sunlight as though she had never seen the weapon.

_To think, _she mused, _this is solely responsible for who I am today._

But no—that wasn't fair. She almost scoffed at her word choice. _Fair._ In the end it was her choice, her choice **alone** that led her down the dark path of corruption and the never ending struggle for power.

An unexplainable urge wanted her to throw the blade down on the ground, walk away, and pretend she knew nothing…nothing of the invisible blood that rested on the weapon.

Yes, she had killed innocents with that blade. Yes, she even killed heroes. But not just evil deeds had been dealt with her deadly blades. She had saved lives (sure, maybe not intentional), but lives nonetheless.

_Maybe…maybe when I leave I will become a citizen._

Her upper lip curled up in disgust at even having the thought cross her mind. _No, it's too late. This is a part of me…now and forever._

She had almost missed the heavy, mechanical steps approach her from behind, footsteps she had become so accustomed to…and maybe, in some strange, twisted way, she would miss it.

The villainess didn't even turn around to address the other man. It was Connmanne, an Arachnos super-soldier, and somehow, through strange means, her partner in crime.

"You're leaving." It was not a question, it was a statement: bold, declaring, leaving no room for arguments or rebuttals. She averted her gaze to the corner of her eyes, even though she knew she still wouldn't see Connmanne. Not that it would matter, there was a reason a blindfold covered her eyes.

"Yes."

She could hear the Arachnos soldier shift his position slighty, the light clicking of the mechanical arms protruding from his backpack seeming to produce an orchestra of noise in the otherwise silent atmosphere.

"…where does that leave me?"

The villainess rolled her eyes, not that he'd be able to see, snorting softly. "I'm sure you'll find something to do with yourself."

"I know. Goodbye Xyleena."

A few seconds later he was gone, just as loudly as he had come, but by that point Xyleena was lost in thought yet again.

_You've caused chaos, _she mused with a hint of pride, _but what have you become in the process?_

She frowned. What was she now? A monster? A master mind? An evildoer, hero killer, villainess?

She shook her head. Maybe that was why the stalker was leaving these "Rogue Isles". Isn't that why people ran? To escape their fate or some other useless reason? A new start…

_New start…new start…_

The sky began to turn dark as the last blood red remnants of the ever-glowing sun began to sink into the horizon, hiding as the moon would be visible in moments still, not returning for another morning Xyleena would never see.

And so a lone figure stood against the sky, with her hands on her hips, the outline of her silhouette beginning to slightly blur together from the lack of light. Everything about her was sharp, the edges of her elbows to her armored shoulders.

With a flash of dark purple light, she was gone.


End file.
